Tales and Novels Volume VII Part 35

Falconer; "yet I can't say I like their style of singing--and knowledge of music, you know, they don't pretend to."

"Why, that's true," said Miss Georgiana; "but still, somehow, I can never bring out my voice before those girls. If I have any voice at all, it is in the lower part, and Miss La Grande always chooses the lower part--besides, ma'am, you know she regularly takes '_O Giove omnipotente_' from me. But I should not mind _that_ even, if she would not attempt poor '_Quanto O quanto e amor possente_'--there's no standing that! Now, really, to hear that so spoiled by Miss La Grande--"

"Hus.h.!.+ my dear," said Mrs. Falconer, just as Mrs. La Grande appeared--"Oh! my good Mrs. La Grande, how kind is this of you to come to me with your poor head! And Miss La Grande and Miss Eliza! We are so much obliged to you, for you know that we could not have done without you."

The Miss La Grandes were soon followed by the Miss Barhams and Miss Crotch, and they were all "_so good, and so kind, and such dear creatures_." But after the first forced compliments, silence and reserve spread among the young ladies of the Miss Falconers' party. It was evident that the fair professors were mutually afraid and envious of each other, and there was little prospect of harmony of temper. At length the gentlemen arrived. Count Altenberg appeared, and came up to pay his compliments to the Miss Falconers: as he had not been behind the scenes, all was charming illusion to his eyes. No one could appear more good-humoured, agreeable, and amiable than Miss Georgiana; she was in delightful spirits, well dressed, and admirably supported by her mother. The concert began. But who can describe the anxiety of the rival mothers, each in agonies to have their daughters brought forward and exhibited to the best advantage! Some grew pale, some red--all, according to their different powers of self-command and address, endeavoured to conceal their feelings. Mrs. Falconer now shone superior in ease inimitable. She appeared absolutely unconcerned for her own daughter, quite intent upon bringing into notice the talents of the Miss Barhams, Miss Crotch, the Miss La Grandes, &c.

These young ladies in their turn knew and practised the various arts by which at a musical party the unfortunate mistress of the house may be tormented. Some, who were sensible that the company were anxious for their performance, chose to be "_quite out of voice_," till they had been pressed and flattered into acquiescence; one sweet bashful creature must absolutely be forced to the instrument, as a new speaker of the House of Commons was formerly dragged to the chair. Then the instrument was not what one young lady was _used to_; the lights were so placed that another who was near-sighted could not see a note--another could not endure such a glare. One could not sing unless the windows were all open--another could not play unless they were all shut. With perfect complaisance Mrs. Falconer ordered the windows to be opened and shut, and again shut and opened; with admirable patience she was, or seemed to be, the martyr to the caprices of the fair musicians. While all the time she so manoeuvred as to divide, and govern, and finally to have every thing arranged as she pleased. None but a perfectly cool stander-by, and one previously acquainted with Mrs. Falconer's character, could have seen all that Alfred saw. Perhaps the interest he began to take about Count Altenberg, who was the grand object of all her operations, increased his penetration. While the count was engaged in earnest political conversation in one of the inner rooms with the commissioner, Mrs. Falconer besought the Miss La Grandes to favour the company. It was impossible for them to resist her polite entreaties. Next she called upon Miss Crotch, and the Miss Barhams; and she contrived that they should sing and play, and play and sing, till they had exhausted the admiration and complaisance of the auditors. Then she relieved attention with some slight things from Miss Arabella Falconer, such as could excite no _sensation_ or envy. Presently, after walking about the room, carelessly joining different conversation parties, and saying something obliging to each, she approached the count and the commissioner. Finding that the commissioner had finished all he had to say, she began to reproach him for keeping the count so long from the ladies, and leading him, as she spoke, to the piano-forte, she declared that he had missed such charming things. She _could_ not ask Miss Crotch to play any more till she had rested--"Georgiana! for want of something better, do try what you can give us--She will appear to great disadvantage, of course--My dear, I think we have not had _O Giove omnipotente_."

"I am not equal to that, ma'am," said Georgiana, drawing back: "you should call upon Miss La Grande."

"True, my love; but Miss La Grande has been so very obliging, I could not ask--Try it, my love--I am not surprised you should be diffident after what we have heard; but the count, I am sure, will make allowances."

With amiable and becoming diffidence Miss Georgiana was compelled to comply--the count was surprised and charmed by her voice: then she was prevailed upon to try "_Quanta O quanto e amor possente_"--the count, who was enthusiastically fond of music, seemed quite enchanted; and Mrs.

Falconer took care that he should have this impression left full and strong upon his mind--supper was announced. The count was placed at the table between Mrs. Falconer and Lady Trant--but just as they were sitting down, Mrs. Falconer called to Georgiana, who was going, much against her will, to another table, "Take my place, my dear Georgiana, for you know I never eat supper."

Georgiana's countenance, which had been black as night, became all radiant instantly. She took her mamma's place beside the count. Mrs.

Falconer walked about all supper-time smiling, and saying obliging things with self-satisfied grace. She had reason indeed to be satisfied with the success of this night's operations. Never once did she appear to look towards the count, or her daughter; but a.s.suredly she saw that things were going on as she wished.

In the mean time Alfred Percy was as heartily tired by the exhibitions of this evening as were many fas.h.i.+onable young men who had been loud in their praises of the performers. Perhaps Alfred was not however a perfectly fair judge, as he was disappointed in his own manoeuvres, not having been able to obtain two minutes' conversation with the count during the whole evening. In a letter to Rosamond, the next day, he said that Mrs. Falconer's concert had been very dull, and he observed that "People can see more of one another in a single day in the country than they can in a year in town." He was further very eloquent "on the folly of meeting in crowds to say commonplace nothings to people you do not care for, and to see only the outsides of those with whom you desire to converse."

"Just as I was writing this sentence," continues Alfred, "Count Altenberg called--how fortunate!--how obliging of him to come so early, before I went to the courts. He has put me into good humour again with the whole world--even with the Miss Falconers. He came to take leave of me--he is going down to the country--with whom do you think?--With Lord Oldborough, during the recess. Did I not tell you that Lord Oldborough would like him--that is, would find that he has information, and can be useful? I hope you will all see the count; indeed I am sure you will.

He politely spoke of paying his respects to my father, by whom the s.h.i.+pwrecked foreigners had been so hospitably succoured in their distress. I told him that our family no longer lived in the same place; that we had been obliged to retire to a small estate, in a distant part of the county. I did not trouble him with the history of our family misfortunes; nor did I even mention how the s.h.i.+pwreck, and the carelessness of the Dutch sailors, had occasioned the fire at Percy Hall--though I was tempted to tell him this when I was speaking of M. de Tourville.

"I forgot to tell my father, that the morning when I went with the count to Lord Oldborough's, among a heap of books of heraldry, with which his table was covered, I spied an old book of my father's on the _arte_ of deciphering, which he had lent Commissioner Falconer years ago. Lord Oldborough, whose eye is quick as a hawk's, saw my eye turn towards it, and he asked me if I knew any thing of that book, or of the art of deciphering? Nothing of the art, but something of the book, which I recollected to be my father's. His lords.h.i.+p put it into my hands, and I showed some pencil notes of my father's writing. Lord Oldborough seemed surprised, and said he did not know this had been among the number of your studies. I told him that you had once been much intent upon Wilkins and Leibnitz's scheme of a universal language, and that I believed this had led you to the art of deciphering. He repeated the words 'Universal language--Ha!--then I suppose it was from Mr. Percy that Commissioner Falconer learnt all he knew on this subject?'

"'I believe so, my lord.'

"'Ha!' He seemed lost for a moment in thought, and then added, 'I wish I had known this sooner--Ha!'

"What these _Haes_ meant, I was unable to decipher; but I am sure they related to some matter very interesting to him. He explained himself no farther, but immediately turned away from me to the count, and began to talk of the affairs of his court, and of M. de Tourville, of whom he seems to have some knowledge, I suppose through the means of his envoy, Cunningham Falconer.

"I understand that a prodigious party is invited to Falconer-court. The count asked me if I was to be one of them, and seemed to wish it--I like him much. They are to have b.a.l.l.s, and plays, and great doings. If I have time, I will write _to-morrow_, and tell you who goes, and give you a sketch of their characters. Mrs. Falconer cannot well avoid asking you to some of her entertainments, and it will be pleasant to you to know who's who beforehand."

CHAPTER XXIV.

Notwithstanding all the patronage of fas.h.i.+on, which the Miss Falconers had for some time enjoyed, notwithstanding all their own accomplishments, and their mother's address and knowledge of the world, the grand object had not been obtained--for they were not married.

Though every where seen, and every where admired, no proposals had yet been made adequate to their expectations. In vain had one young n.o.bleman after another, heir apparent after heir apparent, been invited, cherished, and flattered by Mrs. Falconer, had been constantly at her b.a.l.l.s and concerts, had stood beside the harp and the piano-forte, had danced or flirted with the Miss Falconers, had been hung out at all public places as a pendant to one or other of the sisters.

The mother, seeing project after project fail for the establishment of her daughters, forced to bear and to conceal these disappointments, still continued to form new schemes with indefatigable perseverance. Yet every season the difficulty increased; and Mrs. Falconer, in the midst of the life of pleasure which she seemed to lead, was a prey to perpetual anxiety. She knew that if any thing should happen to the commissioner, whose health was declining; if he should lose Lord Oldborough's favour, which seemed not impossible; if Lord Oldborough should not be able to maintain himself in power, or if he should die; she and her daughters would lose every thing. From a small estate, overwhelmed with debt, there would be no fortune for her daughters; they would be left utterly dest.i.tute, and absolutely unable to do any thing for themselves--unlikely to suit plain country gentlemen, after the high style of company in which they had lived, and still more incapable than she would be of bearing a reverse of fortune. The young ladies, confident of their charms, unaccustomed to reflect, and full of the present, thought little of these probabilities of future evil, though they were quite as impatient to be married as their mother could wish.

Indeed, this impatience becoming visible, she was rather anxious to suppress it, because it counteracted her views. Mrs. Falconer had still two schemes for their establishment. Sir Robert Percy had luckily lost his wife within the last twelvemonth, had no children, and had been heard to declare that he would marry again as soon as he decently could, because, if he were to die without heirs, the Percy estate might revert to the relations, whom he detested. Mrs. Falconer had persuaded the commissioner to cultivate Sir Robert Percy's acquaintance; had this winter watched for the time when law business called him to town; had prevailed upon him to go to her house, instead of staying, as he usually did, at an hotel, or spending his day at his solicitor's chambers. She had in short made things so agreeable to him, and he seemed so well pleased with her, she had hopes he would in time be brought to propose for her daughter Arabella. To conciliate Sir Robert Percy, it was necessary to avoid all connexion with _the other Percys_; and it was for this reason that the commissioner had of late avoided Alfred and Erasmus. Mrs. Falconer's schemes for Georgiana, her beautiful daughter, were far more brilliant. Several great establishments she had in view.

The appearance of Count Altenberg put many old visions to flight--her whole fancy fixed upon him. If she could marry her Georgiana to Count Altenberg!--There would be a match high as her most exalted ambition could desire; and this project did not seem impossible. The count had been heard to say that he thought Miss Georgiana Falconer the handsomest woman he had seen since he had been in London. He had admired her dancing, and had listened with enthusiastic attention to her music, and to her charming voice; the young lady herself was confident that he was, would be, or ought to be, her slave. The count was going into the country for some weeks with Lord Oldborough. Mrs. Falconer, though she had not seen Falconer-court for fifteen years, decided to go there immediately. Then she should have the count fairly away from all the designing mothers and rival daughters of her acquaintance, and besides--she might, by this seasonable visit to the country, secure Sir Robert Percy for her daughter Arabella. The commissioner rejoiced in his lady's determination, because he knew that it would afford him an opportunity of obliging Lord Oldborough. His lords.h.i.+p had always been averse from the trouble of entertaining company. He disliked it still more since the death of Lady Oldborough; but he knew that it was necessary to keep up his interest and his popularity in the country, and he would, therefore, be obliged by Mrs. Falconer's giving dinners and entertainments for him. This game had succeeded, when it had been played--at the time of the Marchioness of Twickenham's marriage. Mr.

Falconer was particularly anxious now to please Lord Oldborough, for he was fully aware that he had lost ground with his patron, and that his sons had all in different ways given his lords.h.i.+p cause of dissatisfaction. With Buckhurst Falconer Lord Oldborough was displeased for being the companion and encourager of his nephew, Colonel Hauton, in extravagance and gaming. In paying his court to the nephew, Buckhurst lost the uncle. Lord Oldborough had hoped that a man of literature and talents, as Buckhurst had been represented to him, would have drawn his nephew from the turf to the senate, and would have raised in Colonel Hauton's mind some n.o.ble ambition.

"A clergyman! sir," said Lord Oldborough to Commissioner Falconer, with a look of austere indignation.--"What could induce such a man as Mr.

Buckhurst Falconer to become a clergyman?" The commissioner, affecting to sympathize in this indignation, declared that he was so angry with his son that he would not see him. All the time, however, he comforted himself with the hope that his son would, in a few months, be in possession of the long-expected living of Chipping-Friars, as the old inc.u.mbent was now speechless. Lord Oldborough had never, after this disowning of Buckhurst, mentioned his name to the father, and the commissioner thought this management had succeeded.

Of John Falconer, too, there had been complaints. Officers returned from abroad had spoken of his stupidity, his neglect of duty, and, above all, of his boasting that, let him do what he pleased, he was sure of Lord Oldborough's favour--certain of being a major in one year, a lieutenant-colonel in two. At first his boasts had been laughed at by his brother officers, but when, at the year's end, he actually was made a major, their surprise and discontent were great. Lord Oldborough was blamed for patronizing such a fellow. All this, in course of time, came to his lords.h.i.+p's knowledge. He heard these complaints in silence. It was not his habit suddenly to express his displeasure. He heard, and saw, without speaking or acting, till facts and proofs had acc.u.mulated in his mind. He seemed to pa.s.s over many things un.o.bserved, but they were all registered in his memory, and he would judge and decide at last in an instant, and irrevocably. Of this Commissioner Falconer, a cunning man, who watched parts of a character narrowly, but could not take in the whole, was not aware. He often blessed his good fortune for having escaped Lord Oldborough's displeasure or detection, upon occasions when his lords.h.i.+p had marked all that the commissioner imagined he had overlooked; his lords.h.i.+p was often most awake to what was pa.s.sing, and most displeased, when he appeared most absent or unmoved.

For instance, many mistakes, and much ignorance, had frequently appeared in his envoy Cunningham Falconer's despatches; but except when, in the first moment of surprise at the difference between the inept.i.tude of the envoy, and the talents of the author of the pamphlet, his lords.h.i.+p had exclaimed, "_A slovenly despatch_," these mistakes, and this ignorance, had pa.s.sed without animadversion. Some symptoms of duplicity, some evasion of the minister's questions, had likewise appeared, and the commissioner had trembled lest the suspicions of his patron should be awakened.

Count Altenberg, without design to injure Cunningham, had accidentally mentioned in the presence of the commissioner and of Lord Oldborough something of a transaction which was to be kept a profound secret from the minister, a private intrigue which Cunningham had been carrying on to get himself appointed envoy to the court of Denmark, by the interest of the opposite party, in case of a change of ministry. At the moment when this was alluded to by Count Altenberg, the commissioner was so dreadfully alarmed that he perspired at every pore; but perceiving that Lord Oldborough expressed no surprise, asked no explanation, never looked towards him with suspicion, nor even raised his eyes, Mr.

Falconer flattered himself that his lords.h.i.+p was so completely engrossed in the operation of replacing a loose gla.s.s in his spectacles, that he had not heard or noticed one word the count had said. In this hope the commissioner was confirmed by Lord Oldborough's speaking an instant afterwards precisely in his usual tone, and pursuing his previous subject of conversation, without any apparent interruption in the train of his ideas. Yet, notwithstanding that the commissioner fancied that he and his son had escaped, and were secure in each particular instance, he had a general feeling that Lord Oldborough was more reserved towards him; and he was haunted by a constant fear of losing, not his patron's esteem or confidence, but his favour. Against this danger he constantly guarded. To flatter, to keep Lord Oldborough in good humour, to make himself agreeable and necessary by continual petty submissions and services, was the sum of his policy.

It was with this view that he determined to go into the country; and with this view he had consented to various expenses, which were necessary, as Mrs. Falconer declared, to make it practicable for her and her daughters to accompany him. Orders were sent to have a theatre at Falconer-court, which had been long disused, fitted up in the most elegant manner. The Miss Falconers had been in the habit of acting at Sir Thomas and Lady Flowerton's private theatre at Richmond, and they were accomplished actresses. Count Altenberg had declared that he was particularly fond of theatrical amus.e.m.e.nts. That hint was sufficient.

Besides, what a sensation the opening of a theatre at Falconer-court would create in the country! Mrs. Falconer observed that the only possible way to make the country supportable was to have a large party of town friends in your house--and this was the more necessary for her, as she was almost a stranger in her own county.

Alfred kept his promise, and sent Rosamond a list of the persons of whom the party was to consist. Opposite to several names he wrote--commonplace young--or, commonplace old ladies:--of the latter number were Lady Trant and Lady Kew: of the former were the Miss G----s, and others not worth mentioning. Then came the two Lady Arlingtons, nieces of the Duke of Greenwich.

"The Lady Arlingtons," continues Alfred, "are glad to get to Mrs.

Falconer, and Mrs. Falconer is glad to have them, because they are related to my lord duke. I have met them at Mrs. Falconer's, at Lady Angelica Headingham's, and often at Lady Jane Granville's. The style and tone of the Lady Anne is languis.h.i.+ng--of Lady Frances, lively: both seem mere spoilt selfish ladies of quality. Lady Anne's selfishness is of the cold, chronic, inveterate nature; Lady Frances' of the hot, acute, and tormenting species. She 'loves everything by fits, and nothing long.'

Every body is _an angel_ and _a dear creature_, while they minister to her fancies--and no longer. About these fancies she is restless and impatient to a degree which makes her sister look sick and scornful beyond description. Lady Anne neither fancies nor loves any thing or any body. She seems to have no object upon earth but to drink barley-water, and save herself from all manner of trouble or exertion, bodily or mental. So much for the Lady Arlingtons.

"Buckhurst Falconer cannot be of this party--Colonel Hauton has him at his regiment. But Buckhurst's two friends, the Clays, are earnestly pressed into the service. Notwithstanding the fine sanctified speech Mrs. Falconer made me, about _that sad affair of Lewis Clay with Lady Harriot H----_, she invites him; and I have a notion, if Count Altenberg had not appeared, that she would have liked to have had him, _or_ his brother, for her son-in-law. That you may judge how much my mother would like them for her sons-in-law, I will take the trouble to draw you portraits of both gentlemen.

"_French_ Clay and _English_ Clay, as they have been named, are brothers, both men of large fortune, which their father acquired respectably by commerce, and which they are spending in all kinds of extravagance and profligacy, not from inclination, but merely to purchase admission into fine company. French Clay is a travelled c.o.xcomb, who, _a propos de bottes_, begins with, 'When I was abroad with the Princess...o...b..tella--' But I am afraid I cannot speak of this man with impartiality, for I cannot bear to see an Englishman apeing a Frenchman. The imitation is always so awkward, so ridiculous, so contemptible. French Clay talks of _tact_, but without possessing any; he delights in what he calls _persiflage_, but in his _persiflage_, instead of the wit and elegance of Parisian raillery, there appears only the vulgar love and habit of derision. He is continually railing at our English want of _savoir vivre_, yet is himself an example of the ill-breeding which he reprobates. His manners have neither the cordiality of an Englishman nor the polish of a foreigner. To improve us in _l'esprit de societe_, he would introduce the whole system of French gallantry--the vice without the refinement. I heard him acknowledge it to be 'his principle' to intrigue with every _married_ woman who would listen to him, provided she has any one of his four requisites, wit, fas.h.i.+on, beauty, or a good table. He says his late suit in Doctors'-commons cost him nothing; for 10,000_l._ are nothing to him.

"Public virtue, as well as private, he thinks it a fine air to disdain, and patriotism and love of our country, he calls prejudices of which a philosopher ought to divest himself. Some charitable people say that he is not so unfeeling as he seems to be, and that above half his vices arise from affectation, and from a mistaken ambition to be what he thinks perfectly French.

"His brother, English Clay, is a cold, reserved, proud, dull-looking man, whom art, in despite of nature, strove, and strove in vain, to quicken into a 'gay deceiver.' He is a grave man of pleasure--his first care being to provide for his exclusively personal gratifications. His dinner is a serious, solemn business, whether it be at his own table or at a tavern, which last he prefers--he orders it so that his repast shall be the very best of its kind that money can procure. His next care is, that he be not cheated in what he is to pay. Not that he values money, but he cannot bear to be _taken in_. Then his dress, his horses his whole appointment and establishment, are complete, and accurately in the fas.h.i.+on of the day--no expense spared. All that belongs to Mr. Clay, of Clay-hall, is the best of its kind, or, at least, _had from the best hand_ in England. Every thing about him is English; but I don't know whether this arises from love of his country or contempt of his brother.

English Clay is not ostentatious of that which is his own, but he is disdainful of all that belongs to another. The slightest deficiency in the _appointments_ of his companions he sees, and marks by a wink to some bystander, or with a dry joke laughs the wretch to scorn. In company he delights to sit by silent and snug, sneering inwardly at those who are entertaining the company, and _committing_ themselves.

He never entertains, and is seldom entertained. His joys are neither convivial nor intellectual; he is gregarious, but not companionable; a hard drinker, but not social. Wine sometimes makes him noisy, but never makes him gay; and, whatever be his excesses, he commits them seemingly without temptation from taste or pa.s.sion. He keeps a furiously expensive mistress, whom he curses, and who curses him, as Buckhurst informs me, ten times a day; yet he prides himself on being free and unmarried!

Scorning and dreading women in general, he swears he would not marry Venus herself unless she had 100,000_l._ in each pocket; and now that no mortal Venus wears pockets, he thanks Heaven he is safe. Buckhurst, I remember, a.s.sured me that beneath this crust of pride there is some good-nature. Deep hid under a large ma.s.s of selfishness there may be some glimmerings of affection. He shows symptoms of feeling for his horses, and his mother, and his coachman, and his country. I do believe he would fight for old England, for it is his country, and he is English Clay. Affection for his coachman, did I say?--He shows admiration, if not affection, for every whip of note in town. He is their companion--no, their pupil, and, as Antoninus Pius gratefully prided himself in recording the names of those relations and friends from whom he learnt his several virtues, this man may boast to after-ages of having learnt from one coachman how to cut a fly off his near leader's ear, how to tuck up a duck from another, and the _true spit_ from a third--by-the-bye, it is said, but I don't vouch for the truth of the story, that this last accomplishment cost him a tooth, which he had had drawn to attain it in perfection. Pure _slang_ he could not learn from any one coachman, but from constantly frequenting the society of all. I recollect Buckhurst Falconer telling me that he dined once with English Clay, in company with a baronet, a viscount, an earl, a duke, and the driver of a mail-coach, to whom was given, by acclamation, the seat of honour. I am told there is a house, at which these gentlemen and n.o.blemen meet regularly every week, where there are two dining-rooms divided by gla.s.s doors. In one room the real coachmen dined, in the other the amateur gentlemen, who, when they are tired of their own conversation, throw open the gla.s.s doors, that they may be entertained and edified by the coachmen's wit and _slang_; in which dialect English Clay's rapid proficiency has, it is said, recommended him to the _best_ society, even more than his being the master of the best of cooks, and of Clay-hall.

"I have said so much more than I intended of both these brothers, that I have no room for more portraits; indeed, the other gentlemen are zeros.

"Yours affectionately,

"ALFRED PERCY."

Notwithstanding the pains which Mrs. Falconer took to engage these Mr.

Clays to accompany her, she could obtain only a promise that they would wait upon her, if possible, some time during the recess.

Count Altenberg also, much to Mrs. Falconer's disappointment, was detained in town a few days longer than he had foreseen, but he promised to follow Lord Oldborough early in the ensuing week. All the rest of the _prodigious_ party arrived at Falconer-court, which was within a few miles of Lord Oldborough's seat at Clermont-park.

The day after Lord Oldborough's arrival in the country, his lords.h.i.+p was seized with a fit of the gout, which fixed in his right hand.

Commissioner Falconer, when he came in the morning to pay his respects, and to inquire after his patron's health, found him in his study, writing a letter with his left hand. "My lord, shall not I call Mr.

Temple--or--could I offer my services as secretary?"

"I thank you, sir--no. This letter must be written with my own hand."

Whom can this letter be to, that is of so much consequence? thought the commissioner; and glancing his eye at the direction, he saw, as the letter was given to a servant, "_To L. Percy, Esq._"--his surprise arrested the pinch of snuff which he was just going to take. "What could be the business--the secret--only a few lines, what could they contain?"

Simply these words